


lough gur (county limerick, ireland)

by novoaa1



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Heavy Angst, Lena Luthor Finds Out Kara Danvers is Supergirl, Lena Luthor Needs Therapy, Lena Luthor Needs a Hug, Lena Luthor-centric, Like really really in love, POV Lena Luthor, Pre-Relationship, Sad Kara Danvers, Sad Lena Luthor, its sad but cute, lena talks to her mom about kara, lena's private jet, like telling her how she feels and all that mushy stuff, she goes to ireland to talk to her mom, shes angsty, they're in love, they're not together quite yet, which is super cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-03-09 11:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18915691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novoaa1/pseuds/novoaa1
Summary: Lena's upset (understatement of the year) after Lex reveals Kara's identity (post-4x22).She leaves for Ireland as soon as she can, then talks to her Mum up above once she's there because nothing else makes sense (even though she's never been all that religious to begin with, and she knows damn well her dead mother won't be talking back to her).Still, she wants her mom to know that she's in love (with Kara), that it hurts (because of Kara), and that she's scared but she's still going to try (because it's Kara and Lena loves her more than anything).It's sad, and angsty... but really kind of cute and heartwarming at the same time.





	lough gur (county limerick, ireland)

**Author's Note:**

> just an idea that popped into my head after watching the finale... 
> 
> i got inspired cause i was listening to don't cry by lil wayne on repeat and then... well
> 
> i just have a shit ton of lena feels idk

— —

 

Everything’s upside-down—what’s more, it fucking _hurts_.

 

It hurts that Kara lied; it hurts that Lex didn’t stop until Lena had to _make_ him stop; but most of all, it hurts that she’s a killer now, that because of that she can’t even feel righteously angry towards Kara Danvers, because what exactly does Supergirl owe her? How can Lena stand here, hands slick with Lex’s blood, and say that she deserved the honest truth from Kara since the start?

 

(She can’t.)

 

After all of it, the worst part isn't that she’s been betrayed, _again_. And morbidly enough, it’s also not that she’s finally gone and killed someone—her own brother, even (it’s rather macabre, but she thinks of her birth mother’s death as more of a ‘manslaughter’ situation than anything else); somehow, she knows she’ll find a way to live with watching one of the only people she’s ever loved draw his final breath, with her trembling hands grasped tightly around the smoking gun that killed him, with the knowledge that in doing so, she’s finally succeeded in rendering herself more alone now than she’s ever been before.

 

No, the worst part is that somewhere along the way, she stumbled upon the audacity to think that she deserved better. 

 

(Personally, Lena blames Kara Danvers.)

 

She’s angry at herself for _being angry_ , because she knows better than to think she deserved anything more than cold shoulders and elaborate lies; she’s always known that, ever since her 4-year-old self stumbled shyly across the threshold of Luthor Mansion for the very first time. 

 

So, that? That’s what hurts. That’s what hurts worse than anything, worse than Lillian’s most biting insults, worse than Eve’s betrayal, worse than the years she watched helplessly while Lex (her brother, her role model, her _hero_ ) descended swiftly into madness—quite honestly, Lena doesn’t know how much more of it she’s expected to take.

 

But still, she goes to game night (the ring of the gunshot still throbbing painfully in her ears), and she brings two bottles of wine (red and white, which in hindsight is a rather quaint metaphor for how desperately _torn_ she feels at that particular moment), and when Kara smiles at her like nothing’s changed, she smiles back, because to the blonde superhero-slash-reporter, nothing really has.

 

(But, for Lena, nothing will ever be the same.)

 

The next day, she boards her private jet to County Limerick in the south of Ireland without telling a soul where she’s gone; she’s not sure if returning to the very same waters she watched her birth mother drown under will make her feel any better, but she knows it’ll elicit _something_ from her, something that will hurt louder than the dull agonizing ache that’s made its home deep in her chest since Lex spat those words, something bigger than the numbness sinking into her bones with every passing moment—maybe it isn’t wise, but that’s most certainly not going to stop her from doing it anyhow.

 

(And maybe, just maybe, she’ll feel a little less alone standing on the shores of Lough Gur, tracking the steady ripples along the water’s surface with tear-filled eyes, remembering a time before she knew the world’s utterly sadistic habit of taking and taking and taking until… well, until _what_ she’s not quite sure, because Lord knows it hasn’t stopped yet. 

 

She doesn’t know if it ever will.) 

 

15 hours later, and she’s there: between the towns of Bruff and Caherconlish (though slightly closer to the former), gazing at the vaguely horseshoe-shaped lakelet before her from the foot of the hill called Knockadoon… and, despite Lough Gur being a somewhat popular tourist destination, it’s markedly desolate for the moment; standing there, blanketed in unequivocal silence, Lena feels as if she can _breathe_ again.

 

She doesn’t know what makes her do it, because she’s never been one for believing in superstition or ghosts or a heaven up above—but a second later she’s talking to her Mum like she’s there, like she’s somewhere amidst the stormy grey weather just listening to her wayward and wholly _broken_ daughter, like she’s around because she knows Lena’s lost, because she’s trying to wordlessly tell Lena that she’s not alone, that she never has been. 

 

“Hey, Mum,” she starts (her Irish syntax creeping further and further into every inflection as pure unmitigated _emotion_ overtakes her), chuckling self-deprecatingly at herself because she feels stupid for talking to the wind like it might hear her, for being stupid enough to believe the world might give a damn about her in the first place when it’d never given her a single reason to believe it ever had—though, in the end she loses the battle within herself, because she _needs_ this, needs this more than she’s ever needed anything else before, and she’s not sure how else she’s meant to _fix_ it all without going completely insane. 

 

“It’s Lena. I don’t know that you remember me, but I remember you, and," she stops herself as a tear traces down her cheek, trying desperately to gather herself, “and I miss you _so_ much right now. I mean, I always do," she wipes hastily (uselessly) at the wet tear tracks down her face even as more begin to fall, “but I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone in my entire life, and I miss—I _need_ you so badly right now that it hurts,” she sniffles, watching the perpetual movement of tiny rippling waves across the domesticated water. 

 

“There’s this girl,” the ghost of a wry grin quirks at her lips. "What’s that movie that says 'There’s always a girl’? I don’t quite know, but whoever wrote that one, they’re right.” She pauses to take a deep breath, steeling herself. "I don’t want to make you upset right now, Mum, but I think… I think I love her. I don’t know if you think that’s wrong, or a sin, and honestly, maybe it is—I think that if there’s a God up there, He abandoned me a long time ago, and I really don’t blame him for that. So, I guess I wouldn’t know, either way.” She bites her lip, another tear escaping her as she turns her gaze skyward, to the grey and gloomy clouds above. 

 

“But I—I _love_ her, Mum… okay? I love her like I’ve never loved anyone before, and I always knew she could hurt me so much worse because of that, because of the things that I feel for her… and she did, Mom, she _did_ , and it hurts so _bad_ ,” the words come out as more of a sob than anything else, because her breaths feel strained and the hurt is palpable and the tears won’t bloody _stop_ —it's as if a dam in her chest is bursting and her bleeding heart is breaking beneath her ribcage, _splintering_ whilst she stands in the freezing cold of the dreary horizon upon which she watched her mother die all those years ago. 

 

It takes her a long time to gather herself, and even then there’s still tears leaking from her reddened eyes, and she’s breathing like an asthmatic after being forcibly thrown into a full-length marathon, but there’s something almost… serene enveloping her; something _warm_ , like maybe she's not so crazy for hoping her Mum might just be up there looking down on her after all.

 

“I don’t—I don’t know what I’m meant to do now,” she admits, the words hoarse and scratchy from her sobs, her eyes now fixed upon the lonely green isle standing proudly in the center of Lough Gur. “But, I still love her, and I think it might just break me to try walking away for good… I don’t—I don’t think I’m strong enough for that,” her voice drops to a whisper. “And, m-maybe that’s okay. Maybe I don’t have to be.” A brief pause, then she’s turning her gaze to the heavens again, another tear straying down alabaster skin. 

 

“I hope you’re happy up there, Mum. I hope—I hope you know that you can rest now, okay? I hope you know that you don’t have to fight anymore, or worry about me—you deserve peace, after everything. You always have,” her voice trembles, but there’s a steel beneath it—a quiet strength as she searches for the ghost of her mother amongst the rainy clouds above. “And, while you do that, I’m gonna be just fine. I promise. You can rest.” She lets out a shuddering breath as it begins to drizzle, then morphs into droplets of rain. “I love you, Mum,” she whispers finally, allowing the rain to cleanse the shore of her tears. “More than anything.”

 

(She doesn’t notice the airborne figure dressed in trademark navy blues and striking red who mingles with the wispy clouds overhead, doesn’t know that the rainfall from heaven is supplemented by the wet tears of a Kryptonian god as they fall to Earth, doesn’t know that the woman she loves is up there alongside the precious remnant of her mother, the pair keeping diligent watch over her like guardian angels in the sky—she doesn’t know that that’s Kara up there, whispering broken apologies into the wind and begging Lena to stop her crying because she loves her so, because she’s sorry for all of it, because she’ll gladly let the rest of the world burn if it means Lena might smile again.

 

So, no, Lena doesn’t know all of that as she turns and walks away from Lough Gur with hunched shoulders and wet cheeks, doesn’t have the faintest clue just how _loved_ she is by every ounce of Kara’s being whilst her delicate body shivers helplessly against the cold… but she will. 

 

Kara will see to it personally that she does.)

 

— —

**Author's Note:**

> would love to know your thoughts:)
> 
> (my [tumblr](https://psyches.co.vu/))


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